


Bootprints

by lanyon



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he’s on the Bus, he’s either a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or a supervillain and, dressed like that, she figures he’s no supervillain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bootprints

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizmo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizmo/gifts).



> +Happy birthday to **dizmo** , most excellent friend and most excellent person, and _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ -watching buddy, despite being on the the west coast while I'm on the east coast. Of different countries.

It’s not a good day. Skye pushes the door of Coulson’s office open and blinks when she realises it’s already occupied.

“What are you doing here?” they both ask at the same time and then Skye adds, for good measure: “Who are you?”

“Ladies first, I insist.” The guy sitting behind Coulson’s desk is stocky and his hair is the shade of sick corn, Skye thinks, for good malicious measure. Skye’s no expert when it comes to cereal farming but she’s spent enough time gazing out the window of the Bus to recognise a shade of Iowa when she sees it. He wears the bruises on his face with weary acceptance and they match the shadows under his eyes and the purple of his uniform.

“Skye,” she says. She sees no harm in telling him that much. If he’s on the Bus, he’s either a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent or a supervillain and, dressed like that, she figures he’s no supervillain. 

“Skye in the Bus in the sky,” says the guy and it’s really not that cute. 

“I don’t think A.C. would like your boots on his desk.” It seems a fair observation. The guy’s boots are worn and lived in, with a number of mysterious stains. 

“A.C. Oh. Oh, that’s fucking _awesome_ ,” says the guy and the thing is? He looks genuinely amused. “In a world of unwieldy fucking acronyms-”

“-A.C. is boss, totally,” says Skye. She folds her arms. “So, who are you?” 

The guy grins. “You’re the hot-shot hacker. Shouldn’t you know all this?”

Skye frowns. She doesn’t like being wrong-footed. (She should be used to it by now.) 

“Anyway, why are _you_ in Phil - Coulson’s office?” 

(The thing is, Skye’s no good at poker. She can bluff online and she can play the hard-ass freedom fighter because everyone wants to be a big fish in a small pond, and when she’s in her van and on her laptop, she’s the biggest fish. On the Bus, though, she’s small fry. 

And then there’s this guy.)

“I -” Skye could tell the truth. It’s an intelligence agency, of sorts, and not an honesty agency but maybe she should tell the truth. “I want to see if he’s said anything about me.” 

The guy wrinkles up his face. “And you thought, what? There’d be reports on Post-It notes in his office?” 

“I couldn’t find-” Skye stops. There’s no point being too honest. Her usual approach for acquiring S.H.I.E.L.D.-related information hit a few dead ends and she’s sick of Tony Stark’s computer security logo, which is a tacky iteration of the Iron Man helmet, laughing and telling her she’s a naughty girl (and to call Ms Pepper Potts if she ever wants a real job).

“It’s okay,” says the guy. “The old-fashioned way works sometimes, too. Just ask Captain America.” 

Skye looks around at the various Cap figurines. “Which one?”

The guy laughs. “So, what did you do that makes you think Phil’s, like, writing about you in his diary or whatever?”

Skye can’t help how guilty she looks this time. “Uhm. Possible massive betrayal but I swear I didn’t mean it.”

What’s really freaking bizarre is the way the guy just shrugs. “Eh, we’ve all been there. Swear to god, Phil never gives up on anyone.” He bites his lip which looks like it should hurt, because it’s bruised, too, with flakes of dried blood sticking to the corner of his mouth. “Even when he probably should. Ever heard of Natasha Romanov?”

“Only that her name makes Ward look like he’s about a minute from pissing himself.”

“Always knew that kid was smarter than he looked,” says the guy. He sits up, putting his feet down on the ground. “Look, Skye. Don’t sweat it. Phil’s a good guy.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” says Skye. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be forgiven; it’s just that she’s scared she’s beyond that. She’s scared that she _should_ be beyond that. 

“He’s been through a tough time, that’s all.” 

“I heard,” says Skye. “Tahiti.”

The guy’s expression changes, then. His whole face shuts down and he nods jerkily. “It’s a magical place.” He shakes his head. “Phil can be tough to read, I get it, but if he’s really pissed, you’ll know about it.”

Skye knows this. She does. She’s seen Phil shout at FitzSimmons and at Ward and she’s even seen him butt heads with May, which was the single most terrifying moment of her life so far. “Has he ever been really pissed at you?”

The guy laughs again. For a fella who’s all beat up, he’s certainly cheerful. “Only every other week.” He makes a show of looking at his watch. “In fact, I’m guessing he’s gonna be super-pissed in about-”

The door swings open. “Barton. I’m not even going to ask how you boarded the Bus, _mid-flight_.” 

“Aw, sir,” says the guy (Barton, evidently). “I was looking forward to regaling you with tales of my derring-do.” 

Skye’s not positive but she could swear there’s a softer expression on Coulson’s face than usual. 

“Derring-do that resulted in you looking like you’ve gone a dozen rounds with Natasha?”

“You only wish you looked this rugged and manly, sir.”

“No, not so much,” says Coulson, pleasantly. It seems to take him quite some effort to drag his eyes away from Barton. “And Skye, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’ve been in my office, A.C., so I figured I’d return the favour,” says Skye, as brightly as she can. “But it was nothing important. In fact, I was never here.”

Coulson smiles, then, and it’s surprisingly gentle. “We’ll make a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent of you yet. Probably faster than Barton here-”

“ _Hey_ -” says Barton.

“-who’s not yet mastered the art of not leaving muddy bootprints on my desktop.” 

“That’s not all I’m gonna-”

“You’re excused, Skye,” says Coulson, effectively cutting Barton off although Skye could swear there’s a hint of colour in his cheeks. “In fact, I think Agent May has some drills to run through with you.”

Skye closes the door behind her but not before she sees Barton stand up and walk towards Coulson. 

(It turns out that Agent May does have some drills and Ward and FitzSimmons watch. Eventually, Skye tags out so that Ward and May can spar and when Simmons blithely mentions something about Hawkeye’s conjugal visits to Coulson, Ward forgets to dodge and takes May’s boot to the side of the head and maybe intelligence agency is not the phrase. 

It’s not a bad day, after all, Skye thinks, with some satisfaction.)


End file.
